


Summer Air

by Likesummerrainn



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: AU, F/M, Fluff, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:13:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25736341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Likesummerrainn/pseuds/Likesummerrainn
Summary: With the wind on their backs, and the sun shining on their faces, they stood rooted in place, holding on for fear that, if they let go, they may never find their way back to each other.
Relationships: Gwen/Lancelot (Merlin)
Kudos: 3





	Summer Air

**Author's Note:**

> I just love Gwen and Lancelot a lot and so here's some fluff for them

She stood with the wind on her back, eyes closed, and breathed in the new summer air. Winter and spring had blurred together and passed without so much as a whisper, but the summer winds had blown in, announcing their arrival with the same force and triumph as the palace. 

Within the wind, on horseback, he rode back into the village and she was his first stop. They stood a few feet apart, neither one ready to make the first move, neither of them sure when the right moment was. 

For them, it was enough to just stand there and look at each other. 

He’d cut his hair short, and her fingers flexed at the memory of carding her fingers through it. Stubble colored his cheeks, but his jaw was as well defined as ever, even more so under the growth, she thought. 

He still stood as tall and as firm as ever, but his head lowered at the sight of her, as though he couldn’t bring himself to look at her just yet. Color rose in his cheeks and not even the beginnings of a beard could hide that. 

His name came easy and naturally as her own, flowing out of her mouth without hesitation. His eyebrows arched and the color in his cheeks deepened. 

He was not in his armor today. A tunic was all that separated her from the warmth of his chest and she bit her lip at the very thought, trying to maintain whatever composure she had left. 

“Guinevere,” he said, softly, holding out a hand for her. 

The sound of her name from his honeyed lips sent her head spinning, a warmth spreading through her, and the tremor in her hands vanished. 

A lady should never act first, nor should she show her own desire. 

That was a gentlemen’s job, to want her, to court her. 

Lessons she’d learned along the way, and lessons she felt the need to obey. 

But the light in Lancelot’s eyes, and the curve of his lips, and the warmth that radiated off him, sent every one of those lessons out the window. 

She pulled him inside and shut the door behind him, reaching up to kiss him. 

That had been nearly a full day ago, and in all the time in between, they’d stayed next to each other, neither one moving, neither one ready to leave yet. 

They took their time with each other, gentle and patient hands moving over every curve and contour of their bodies. 

His hands found their place with ease on her as she traced over scars old and new alike. 

But today, she stood in the warm summer air and knew there was no schedule to maintain, no chores to be done, no one to run after taking orders. 

Today, they had only each other to think of. 

As the wind rushed over her, she let her arms fall to her side, slowly rising as if ready to take flight. 

Two arms, strong and tight, wrapped around her, lips pressing softly to the side of her neck, 

“Careful there,” he whispered into her skin, “or you might just fly away.” 

“One can always dream,” she replied, eyes still closed. 

“Where would you fly off to?” he asked, resting his chin on her shoulder. She was almost a head shorter than him, and she couldn’t imagine what he looked like, lowering himself to her level. 

“Somewhere where no one knows us at all,” she whispered. “Just you and me, under the sun.” 

He inhaled, and she could feel his lips curl into a smile on her. 

She dropped her hands over his, lacing their fingers together, letting herself fall back into him. 

“I think I know a place like that,” he said. “Far from here, a land where no one knows each other, spread out across fields, each home like a world to itself.” 

She brought his hands up to her lips, kissing them softly, breathing in the smell of dirt and soap, the newer scars scratching against her. She found comfort in his rough skin and their gentle touch. 

“One day,” she said, “you and I will be far from here, in a world of our own.” 

“A little cottage, some animals, a hearth with a fire crackling, and a few dozen little ones running around,” he mused. 

She smacked his hand, playfully, 

“A few dozen seems a bit ambitious,” she said. 

“When have you known me to dream any smaller?” he asked, laughing. 

His laughter rocked both of them in their spot, hidden by trees around them. 

“Maybe two or three,” she said, bringing one hand to rest on his cheek. He turned into it, kissing her palm, 

“Why not three or four?” he offered. 

“They’d outnumber us,” she said. 

“Ahh, of course,” he replied. “Can’t have that, now, can we?” 

She let out a deep breath, and for the first time since he’d joined her, Gwen looked up at him, finding that he was already looking at her. 

“I wish we could stay like this forever,” she whispered. 

His smile dropped, but only ever so slightly, but she knew. 

He watched her carefully, trying to find his words now, both of them trying to find a way to say  _ our time is almost up here, back to our lives we go.  _

Lancelot sighed, and kissed her, soft and slow, a few warm tears sliding down their cheeks, and for a moment Gwen wasn’t sure whose tears they were, 

“We will have our chance together,” he murmured against her lips. “In time.” 

She closed her eyes and nestled her head in the crook of his neck, their arms tangled around each other. 

With the wind on their backs, and the sun shining on their faces, they stood rooted in place, holding on for fear that, if they let go, they may never find their way back to each other. 


End file.
